


Divulgence

by lilyoftheshadow



Series: Things Told In Secret [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen, Healing, Snowed In, they're a little awkward around each other, understandably so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:01:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23218180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilyoftheshadow/pseuds/lilyoftheshadow
Summary: “The tea is getting cold,” Itachi said, breaking the silence.Sakura’s eyes darted to their cups, miraculously undisturbed by the altercation. She nodded jerkily, slowly rising to her feet, skirting around Itachi’s bedroll back to her own, where she slowly knelt back down and picked up her own mug.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura & Uchiha Itachi
Series: Things Told In Secret [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1823380
Comments: 4
Kudos: 55





	1. Divulgence

Even the most skilled shinobi was susceptible to the elements. Sakura knew this, and in the midst of the squall, took note of the impending frostbite. She knew the temperatures that a human body—even a shinobi body—could withstand, and she could tell that the air was rapidly approaching the floor of the safe range.

She fed warming chakra through her limbs, but she knew that she couldn’t keep it up for long, and certainly not for the entire night that she would have to continue if she wanted to reach the next village with an inn.

She exhaled, long and slow, producing a small cloud of vapor that immediately crystallized on her mask and in her eyelashes.

Sakura needed another option, and fast. 

She paused, reaching out her senses as much as she could. Nothing was in the area. She recalled the map she had seen before leaving Konoha, and some quick mental calculations put her smack in the middle of nowhere, near the mountains of Kumo. Turning back would be no more helpful than moving forward at this point. She sighed again, heavily, and looked up through the trees. Maybe a new vantage point would help.

As Sakura scaled the tall, sturdy pine, she peered through the treetops, and she almost dropped out of the tree with relief when she spotted, a little ways up the mountain, the rising smoke of a chimney.

She would have to be careful, of course, but the Konoha kunoichi knew that she could certainly barter for shelter from the storm. She dropped back to the ground and, with a new bearing, ran cautiously across the tops of fast-accumulating snow drifts.

As she approached, she slowed down and pushed out her senses, trying to identify the occupants. She felt a chakra signature as she approached, but it was weak. She suppressed her own, hoping that the occupant, who seemed like a low-level shinobi, wouldn’t mark her as a threat. She slowly approached the small stone cabin, inhaling the welcoming scent of woodsmoke.

The property was a little dilapidated, she noted. The thatched roof of the nearby stone well sagged deeply, and she was almost certain it wouldn’t withstand the weight of the oncoming snow. But, the cabin had a fireplace and looked like it would block enough of the cold and wind to make it through the night.

Slowly, she approached the cabin, giving the occupant time to sense her and, hopefully, determine that she meant no harm.

She paused on the doorstep, taking note of the flickering shadows through the frosted window. There was only one occupant, shinobi or otherwise, that she could sense. She knocked on the door.

There was a long silence. She knew the person must be debating even opening the door.

“Hello?” Sakura called out, knocking again. “My name is Haruno. I got caught in the storm. I really need shelter!” she pleaded through the door. "I can pay you for the trouble?" She offered.

The silence dragged on for a moment longer, but just as Sakura opened her mouth to call out again, there were footsteps.

The door cracked open, revealing a nondescript brown eye, pale face, and messy brown hair. Sakura smiled disarmingly.

“Please?” she asked again. The person stepped back, cracking the door just wide enough for her to slip in. He shut it behind her, and stepped in front of it, blocking her escape route. Sakura grew a little wary.

“Haruno-san,” the person greeted. Sakura nodded.

“Thank you very much, sir,” she said politely. “As I said, I can pay you for your trouble,” she said, trailing off as she glanced around the cabin. If not for the occupant and fire, it would seem entirely abandoned. The countertops were clear of any utensils, and the living room of the cottage had no furniture, except a bedroll laid out next to the fire.

“It is not my cabin,” the person said simply, not moving.

“So I see,” she said. “You are just hiding from the storm, too.”

He nodded shortly, and they eyed each other for a moment, sizing the other up. While apparently low-level based on his chakra, the man before her was obviously keen, and eyed her with an unexpected intensity.

“What’s your name?” Sakura asked finally.

“Taka,” the person replied, immediately and curtly. Sakura frowned.

“It’s nice to meet you, Taka-san. Thank you again, for sharing. It's going to get really nasty out.”

He grunted in a vaguely familiar way, and after a long moment, abandoned the door. He went to the fire and shifted his bedroll so that the foot of the roll was towards the fire, giving Sakura room to lay down her own. She smiled gratefully, and set her pack down, withdrawing her camp scroll.

“Do you have food?” she asked, releasing her bedroll and a camp kit. “I don't have much other than energy bars, but I’m happy to share.”

“I already ate,” was the curt reply. Sakura nodded, pulling out a plain energy bar. She unwrapped and bit into it, sitting on her bedroll, as the young man sat on his and picked up a small paperback book that she hadn’t noticed by his pillow.

Well, if he wasn’t going to be talkative, that was fine, Sakura thought, chewing slowly. As she studied him, she realised that the plain features were the result of a very clever henge, and that he was almost certainly suppressing his chakra.

“You can drop the henge,” she said after a moment. “Given the circumstances, it must be quite draining, and there’s no reason we can’t get along until the storm passes, whoever you are.”

The man remained silent. Sakura frowned. “I didn’t want to seem threatening, so I suppressed my chakra,” she went on. “But my reserves are low from fighting the cold, and I’d rather not waste them on hiding. I’m releasing it now,” she said carefully. At his lack of response, she slowly let her chakra flow back to normal, watching him carefully for any reaction. 

His eyes flickered over to her as she knew her full power washed over him, but he remained unmoved. Sakura slouched a bit where she sat, exhausted for a number of reasons. She polished off the last of the energy bar and felt it slowly start to work on her reserves.

There was silence, except the crackling of the fire. She took in the pile of firewood that Taka must have dragged in before the snow got too bad. It looked mostly dry, and would only dry further sitting near the fire before it was fed to the flames. They wouldn’t have to worry about freezing at the very least, she noted with relief.

Sakura resisted the urge to try to start another conversation, and instead decided to pull out a book of her own. She withdrew the cheap pulp romance that she had been slowly working her way through, and lay down, holding the book up so she could read by firelight.

There was silence for almost an hour before she noticed Taka shuddering roughly. She frowned, sitting up and lowering her book. He clamped his hand over his mouth, and she realised he was holding in a wet cough. Instantly she was kneeling next to him.

“Taka-san, I’m a medic. Please let me help you,” she said. He shook his head, shoving her roughly away, his chakra flaring ever so briefly. Sakura tumbled back, a little startled but unsurprised.

“I am the Junior Deputy Director of Konoha Hospital,” she said, sitting back up. “ _Please_ let me help. I’m more than qualified,” she said. Still, he shook his head, moving away from her as he reached into his pack and withdrew a pill bottle. It rattled hollowly, as though he was very low on medicine. She watched as he popped it open and swallowed two of them dry in between coughs. 

Sakura noticed the reddened lips, and bloody phlegm in his hand, and frowned.

“Taka-san, I need to take a look at your lungs,” she ordered in the tone that tended to sway even her worst shinobi patients. He glared up at her.

“Do not touch me,” he commanded in return. Sakura set her mouth in a grim line.

“Taka-san,” she said exasperatedly. “I took an oath to heal, regardless of my patients affiliation or beliefs. Please let me help you. I will tell no-one, but you are clearly very ill and coughing up blood is never a good sign,” she said.

He studied her for a long time, suppressing coughs that were only somewhat lighter after the pill.

“I’ve been told there’s nothing that can be done,” he finally said. Sakura frowned.

“I’d like to assess that for myself,” she said stubbornly. “I doubt your other doctors were trained by Godaime Senju Tsunade-sama herself.”

The man met her gaze levelly, showing no surprise at her training lineage. It crossed her mind that he knew of her by reputation already—she had been travelling frequently and had started to gain some notoriety herself, independent of her mentor. It wasn’t like she was difficult to identify, between her pink hair and her prominent blue diamond seal.

“You may not examine me,” he said after some time. Sakura sighed, deflating somewhat. The coughing seemed to be under control, so she sat back.

“Please reconsider,” she said softly, picking up her book. The man said nothing, wiping his mouth and resuming his own book as well.

The wind howled outside, and Sakura suppressed a shudder as the windows rattled. The cabin held up, however, but she couldn’t see anything except white outside. It was a few hours before either of them moved again. Taka fell into another coughing fit, and Sakura watched warily as his chakra control slipped a little before he managed to swallow some of his pills. He was a much more powerful shinobi than she had estimated before, and she found herself wondering who he was. He bore no village affiliation, but something about him seemed familiar.

It was possible that he was a well-known missing-nin, she realized. That would explain his reluctance to submit to examination, and to drop his henge. If she has crossed paths with him before, it would explain his familiarity.

But not, her mind countered, the fact that he didn’t confront her in return. Her guard had been down until this point, and he had done nothing.

Nothing, except cough. He might be too weak to take her on at this point, she mused.

“You’re staring,” his voice broke the silence abruptly. Sakura startled, averting her eyes.

“I apologize,” she said quickly. She hesitated, but decided to voice her thoughts. “You seem familiar.”

He tensed visibly. Perhaps not visibly to most people, but Sakura was accustomed to reading small cues in her shinobi patients, the ones who tried the most to hide their pain. He was surprised by her assessment, and put on guard.

“Hn,” he grunted softly, forcing himself to relax, ignoring her very deliberately. The sound was familiar again, like it had been when she first entered the cabin, and her curiosity did not abate in the slightest.

The silence stretched, and finally Sakura sat up, reaching for her pack, and her camp kit.

“Tea?” she asked, unsealing a kettle. Taka looked up, surprised, and met her eyes. Sakura tried to keep her gaze open and non-judgmental.

“Please,” he said softly after a long moment. Sakura nodded, hanging the kettle on the old iron hook in front of the fire while she rummaged through tins in a small wooden chest.

“Do you have a preference? I’d give you mallow root for the cough, but that can interfere with oral medications, unfortunately,” she said evenly.

“Plain green tea is fine,” he replied in the same neutral tone. Sakura sighed and prepared the tea leaves as wisps of steam started to curl out of the kettle. She carefully poured them both cups of tea in the slightly beaten-up tin camp mugs, placing Taka’s mug but his bedroll. He waited a moment before reaching for it.

They sipped in silence. After a short time, however, Taka’s cough returned, hacking in a way that it hadn’t before. Sakura sat up, frowning as she watched red spread across the fabric of the sleeve he was using to cover his mouth with. She set down her cup.

“This ends now,” she said. “I can help. Lay down,” she demanded. Taka shook his head as another cough wracked his body, but Sakura had seen enough. She crawled over and pushed him onto the mattress, He struggled and his chakra flared, genuinely surprising Sakura that time. It was much more powerful than she expected, and he used her shock to push her back off. She hit her bedroll and skid a few feet back.

Anger overtook her shock, and she stood up.

“ _Lay. Down._ ” Sakura ordered, back on him, shoving him face down onto his bedroll and locking her knees to the ground on either side of his hips with chakra. She pressed her hands to his back and pushed green healing chakra deep into his lungs.

She was horrified by what she found as her chakra flooded his chest, repairing as much damage as she could, loosening and draining deadly ounces of blood and fluid from the lowest reaches of his lungs. As soon as her chakra flooded his chest, he had stopped moving, so Sakura eased up a little on the pressure, feeling his illness out with a little more delicacy as soon as she alleviated the worst of the fluid buildup.

As her chakra brushed his, the sensation of familiarity exploded and she knew for certain, somehow, she had encountered this person before. It was just ever so slightly _off_ , however, and she couldn’t place it just then.

After alleviating the cough and examining his lungs, she felt through the rest of his body for other injury and illness. He lay still, unmoving like a stone beneath her, as her chakra crept up and down his spine. She found a tension headache in the back of his head, and alleviated it as best she could, tracing the tension around to the space behind his eyes, where—

Taka threw her off, abruptly resuming his struggle before she could quite identify what she had touched on. It felt like a doujutsu, but she couldn't place it.

Sakura’s eyes widened from her spot leaning against the stone wall of the cottage. Taka had assumed a defensive position, his chakra fully defensive. She wasn’t sure where the kunai had come from, but there was now a glint of silver in his hands that she was wary of.

“I know you,” she said. Taka’s expression was carefully blank. Sakura studied his form, trying to see through the henge. “I don’t know how,” she added. They stared at each other warily, while she turned her discovery over and over in her head. There was a long silence.

The tension headache, leading to a stagnant pool of chakra trapped behind his eyes.

“Impossible,” she gasped, as realization hit her like a steam train. “Uchiha?” she gasped.

The faintest look of shock crossed Taka’s face, then he realized that hiding was officially a waste of his chakra. He stopped suppressing it, released the henge, and Sakura’s jaw dropped.

Too shocked to think, she stared straight into the slowly spinning tomoe of Itachi Uchiha’s Mangekyo Sharingan.

He blinked, and Sakura’s eyes dropped to his chin, abruptly realising the danger she was in, gazing into the crimson irises.

Still, they didn’t move. Sakura watched him carefully, neutrally as possible, as his breathing slowed and grew deeper. His lips pursed a little as he took one long, deep breath, and let it out slowly. She didn’t dare look at his eyes again, but she got the impression of a furrow between his eyes, and he frowned a little, taking another long, deep breath.

She wondered when the last time was that he had been able to completely fill his lungs.

His shoulders let out some of their tension, and Sakura’s own shoulders relaxed in response. She could feel his gaze searching her, and slowly, carefully, she let her guard down, fingers splaying as she brought her palms up in a gesture of peace.

Itachi relaxed a fraction more, sitting back on his heels, and the wind screamed outside, filling the silence with its anger.

Sakura opened her mouth, but found that she didn’t have anything prepared to say to the notorious missing-nin.

“The tea is getting cold,” Itachi said, breaking the silence.

Sakura’s eyes darted to their cups, miraculously undisturbed by the altercation. She nodded jerkily, slowly rising to her feet, skirting around Itachi’s bedroll back to her own, where she slowly knelt back down and picked up her mug.

Itachi’s eyes didn’t leave her form as he picked his own mug back up.

For a moment, there was uncomfortable silence. Neither of them knew what to say. As the silence lengthened, Sakura relaxed bit by bit, shifting to cross her legs, and slouch a little on her bedroll, facing the fire. Itachi remained on his knees, but she noticed his posture drooping ever so slightly as well.

The discomfort bled away, and returned to a silence more like the quiet, wary truce that had hung over their individual reading earlier in the afternoon.

The clatter of Itachi setting his cup down was almost like thunder breaking the stillness. Sakura looked at it, hesitating. She gulped, then cleared her throat.

“More tea?” she asked, quiet and cordial.

“Yes, please,” Itachi replied in the same cool tone. Sakura took the kettle from the hearth and poured him more, while warming up her own cup. She set his between them again, and he waited until she had fully retreated to her own bedroll before reaching for the cup.

A guarded hour passed, and the fire grew low. Sakura shivered at the cold that started to seep in the cracks around the door, and Itachi reached for a log to throw on the fire. It crackled and threw up sparks, and Sakura took the movement as cue to reach into her bag for another energy bar.

She watched the corner of her eye as Itachi did the same, and they ate in silence, throwing the paper wrappers into the fire for disposal.

Sakura didn’t know what to say, turning over and over in her mind the presence beside her.

He hadn’t made another move since their brief altercation, and seemed almost as cautious of her as she was of him.

“What did you do?” he asked softly as they settled back down.

“What do you mean?” Sakura asked.

“My lungs,” he said. Sakura made a small noise of understanding as she watched him take another deep breath. He had been doing so periodically, as if testing the holding power of his newfound lung capacity.

“There was fluid and blood collecting in them, like a deep, persistent pneumonia. I broke down the components and encouraged your body to reabsorb them. It’s not permanent. I didn’t get as thorough of an examination as I’d have liked,” she said. She paused, and when he didn’t speak immediately, she continued. “What have your other doctors said it was?”

“They believe it’s a defect of the lung,” he said. “Theories have varied between doctors.”

Sakura frowned. “Shinobi doctors?” she asked.

“Most of them,” he replied. They lapsed into silence again.

“Your...” Sakura started, but stopped just as abruptly. She glanced at his face, avoiding the eyes that were still crimson red. “Your sharingan,” she said again, a little nervously. “Could you maybe...?” she hesitated to ask. “I won’t touch you again if you don’t want me to. But it’s... unnerving.”

He was silent for a moment, and she caught out of the corner of her eye as the red slowly bled into black. After a moment, she looked up, meeting his eyes. After a moment, she realised that he wasn’t exactly meeting hers back. She frowned as realization came over her.

“How bad are they?” she asked. Itachi frowned, unwilling to reveal another weakness. There was a long silence as he looked towards the flames. Sakura was about to give up on waiting for an answer when he spoke.

“Without the mangekyo, I am nearly blind,” he said. Sakura’s jaw dropped. She started to move towards him, but stopped abruptly.

“I... Uchiha-san, I have experience mitigating the effects of optical kekkai genkai use,” she said slowly. “May I please help?”

Itachi snorted inelegantly, surprising Sakura.

“Why are you so intent on healing your enemy?” he asked quietly. Sakura was taken aback somewhat. She hadn’t quite thought about it like that.

“To be fair, I didn’t realize who you were until _after_ I healed your lungs,” she said. “But...” She turned it over in her mind for a moment. “I guess I don’t know,” she said finally, sitting back on her bedroll.

Neither of them said anything further, and the wind continued to howl outside. Sakura grew tired as adrenaline bled out of her slowly, and the day’s chakra use started to catch up to her.

She stood up, and grabbed the kettle.

“I’m going to get some snow,” she said, “We can save our canteens for a while while the snow is fresh,” she added. Itachi didn’t react, so Sakura went to the door, cracking it open. Cold bled into the cabin, and she quickly scooped handfuls of snow into the still-hot water. They melted quickly, and once the water was cold, she continued to pack it until it was a thick block of ice. It would melt down quite a bit, but hopefully still be a significant amount of water. 

She shut the door back up, and hurried back to the fire. She placed the kettle back on the hearth, rubbing her hands in front of the flame to warm back up.

“Get some rest,” Sakura said, not really expecting Itachi to react for the moment. She pulled back the blanket to her bedroll, and slipped in fully clothed. She rolled to face away from her temporary roommate, questioning the wisdom of turning her back on a missing-nin.

If he was going to kill her, she figured, he would wait until she had finished healing him. She heard him take another deep, experimental breath, then the shifting of blankets as he lay down as well.

She drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

-=-

Sakura woke up with the sensation of eyes on her. She was immediately alert, and slowly remembered where she was. The eyes on her were that of Uchiha Itachi, and she was in a small abandoned cottage, sheltering barely from a mountain storm.

She heard a quiet clatter as the kettle was removed from the iron hook by the fire, and the sibilance of steaming water over instant noodles. The overspiced aroma of cup ramen started to fill the air. She frowned as she heard a second cup being filled, and a soft thud as it was set by her pillow.

By the time she rolled over and opened her eyes, Itachi had retreated to his bed roll, a pair of chopsticks settled on top of the paper lid of a cup in his hand, keeping the steam in while the noodles cooked.

Sakura sat up, glancing down at the noodles.

“Thank you,” she murmured quietly. Itachi nodded, swirling his cup gently as he stared into the flames. Sakura waited what she assumed was an appropriate amount of time before peeling the paper top all the way back and poking her chopsticks into the soft mass of noodles. 

They quietly slurped on the warming broth of their cup ramen, lost in their own thoughts.

The storm outside had quieted, it seemed. The cabin was filled with the pale blue light of reflected snow, and as Sakura finished her breakfast, she stood and stretched, glancing around.

“There is an outhouse by the woodshed,” Itachi said without preamble, and Sakura briefly wondered how he knew that’s exactly what she was wondering. She grimaced, but grabbed her toilet kit and bundled up in her cloak to brave the cold.

By the time she returned, their cups had been disposed of, and Itachi was sitting down again, reading. Sakura flinched ever so slightly when she realised that he had his mangekyou sharingan active, before remembering that he was nearly blind without it. She reconsidered offering to help, but bit her tongue against speaking up again.

Itachi had been correct, of course. They may have a brief truce for the moment, but they would encounter each other again, and she shouldn’t be spoon-feeding him an advantage—especially when she had no doubt that he was already at an advantage over her.

She settled back down on her bedroll and sighed, laying back to stare at the ceiling.

“Bored already?” Itachi asked. Sakura hummed.

“It’s still way too cold outside to continue without depleting my chakra to stay warm. And your lungs shouldn’t be anywhere near the mountains of Kumo in the first place,” she scolded. Itachi said nothing, flipping a page in his book. Sakura sighed again, picking up her book and leafing through it with disinterest. She had read it three times already, skimming more and more each time. It was a pulp romance that Ino had lent her—one of the milder ones in her collection—and the storyline was barely engaging on the first read.

“Want to trade?” Itachi asked.

“Maybe, but you wouldn’t care for this, I’m sure,” Sakura threw her book to the floor between their bedrolls. “It’s just a trashy romance novel. I wasn’t prepared for extended reading time on this mission.”

Itachi didn’t pick up the novel, but dropped his next to it, reaching into his bag for a bandolier of kunai and a small stone in a leather pouch. Sakura sat up, eyeing them with interest, thinking that sharpening her tools would be a better use of her time as well.

She reached for her pack and soon the small cottage was filled with the soft susurration of honing stones on metal.

"Does Sasuke suffer the same Sharingan issues?” Itachi asked very suddenly. Sakura frowned, pausing in her sharpening.

“That’s not only a breach of patient confidentiality, but also providing intel to enemy nin,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “If I won’t heal your weakness, what makes you think I’d reveal it in a teammate?”

She wouldn’t have caught it if she hadn’t been paying close attention, but his lips quirked ever so briefly into an amused smirk, and he gave the small huff of an aborted laugh.

“Fair point,” he acknowledged. They went back to sharpening kunai. Itachi finished first, putting everything away as he stood and stretched. Sakura looked up and noticed he seemed tense again. He wandered over to the countertop, then back towards the fire. Sakura realised that he was becoming restless.

“I’m surprised you’re getting this restless,” Sakura said quietly. “You sat still for hours yesterday.” Itachi looked over at her, crossing his arms. She averted her eyes from the mangekyou quickly.

“It’s easier to be patient when too much movement triggers a coughing fit,” he said simply. Sakura realised how much better he must feel with clear lungs. He was still breathing extra deeply periodically. “I don’t know the last time I slept a whole night through, either,” he added thoughtfully.

Sakura looked back towards him, although not looking up to his face. His next words surprised her.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. Sakura met his eyes. They were fixed on hers, although he had let them bleed back to his normal jet color. She held his gaze for a moment.

“You’re welcome,” she said, breaking eye contact to stare back into the fire. Took another deep breath, and started pacing a little bit.

“If it’s less than an hour, you can probably go outside for a bit. Burn off some energy. Come back in immediately if your lungs start to burn, or if the cough comes back,” Sakura said. Itachi looked over at her in surprise. “Medic’s orders,” she added. “Being restless and anxious causes its own problems.”

Itachi didn’t wait another moment before grabbing his cloak. Sakura tensed up as the black pile of cloth was turned right-side-out, revealing the red-cloud pattern she had come to fear. She turned away quickly as Itachi donned it, and slipped out the door without another word.

She felt his chakra fade quickly as he ran from the clearing that housed the cottage. 

Sakura stared at the door in surprise for a moment, before glancing over at his bedroll. He had left everything in a small pile, unguarded. She had an unprecedented opportunity to gather key intelligence on the Akatsuki. 

She sat for what seemed like ages, looking at the bundle. It can’t have been more than a few minutes, however, before she metaphorically leapt into action, crawling over to the bundle and checking it for traps. An outside pocket of the bag held the bottle of pills she had seen him take. She examined the label—it was from a pharmacy in Kumo.

“So that’s what he’s doing here,” she murmured, tucking it back in its spot, careful to orient the bottle how she found it. She reached to lift the flap of the bag, but paused. She wasn’t sure what stopped her, but she hesitated there with her hand outstretched.

Itachi Uchiha was a missing-nin, an enemy of Konoha. He was a clan-killer, and a member of the notorious Akatsuki. Any information she could gather on him could save lives in her village.

He could have killed her in her sleep. He was clearly closer to top form, even half-blind, after she cleared his lungs. She sat back, staring at his pack. Ill as he was, he was still formidable, and she had increased his power. His gratitude wouldn’t keep her alive very long if he so much as caught wind of her snooping.

She sat back on her own bedroll with a sigh. She glanced at the books on the floor, and after only a moment of deliberation, picked up the one that he had abandoned.

She flipped it over to read the back cover.

 _An incompetent ninja teams up with a seditious radio host to rescue a hotel full of hostages in this rollicking whodunit tale of mystery and intrigue!_

Sakura snorted. This was hardly better than her dumb book! She felt a smile creep across her face as she opened it to the first page and quickly got lost in the absurd comedy.

She was a few chapters in when she felt an approaching chakra. She tensed up, before realizing that it was just Itachi returning. He arrived at the door just as she put the book back down, and he swept into the cottage, heading to the counter. Sakura stood up, peering curiously across the room.

He shrugged out of his cloak, turning it once again inside out as he hung it on a bent nail in the wall. Sakura spotted the tidily beheaded rabbit on the counter.

“Oh!” she said softly, smiling. “Excellent idea,” she nodded. Itachi returned her nod and moved towards the fire. She saw him pause, glancing at the books, and another wan smile flit across his face before he knelt by his pack.

“It’s still dangerously cold,” he said without any other preamble. “I wouldn’t want to try to make it to the next town even at full strength.”

Sakura nodded, noting the redness of what skin had been exposed to the cold between his collar and hood. He withdrew a scroll and Sakura watched as he unsealed a can of vegetables and another cup of ramen.

“If we add the meat, we can split the ramen,” he said. Sakura nodded, going towards her own pack.

“I mostly only have energy bars,” she admitted, skimming her food scroll. “I wasn’t expecting to have to camp on this trip.” Itachi nodded, going to fill the kettle with more snow before stoking the fire. Sakura was examining the rabbit, trying to figure out how to break it down. They usually traveled near enough rivers in Fire Country that they had fish more often than rabbit when hunting on the road became necessary.

Itachi seemed to note her confusion and approached, carefully plucking the rabbit from her hands as he held up one of his recently sharpened kunai. He didn’t say anything as he dressed the rabbit, but he went slowly enough that she could see what he was doing. After they had a small pile of deboned meat sitting on the hide, Sakura thanked him quietly. He nodded, taking the bundle of refuse and putting it just outside the door, covered slightly with snow.

Sakura went over to the woodpile and picked up one of the logs, settling it into the slowly dimming fire and shuffled the coals around to distribute the heat. Meanwhile, Itachi was searching for something in his backpack. He unsealed an iron pot. Sakura looked at him incredulously.

“You carry around a huge iron pot?” she asked. “Isn’t that a bit of a hassle?” she asked.

“It was my mother’s,” he said simply. Sakura immediately shut up and averted her eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. Itachi settled the pot in the coals, then threw the rabbit meat into it, along with the canned vegetables and some of the melted snow from the kettle. He handed that to Sakura. She took it to the door to refill it with snow, feeling inexplicably chastised.

She settled the pot back by the hearth and sat back on her bedroll while they waited for dinner to be ready.

“I was under orders,” Itachi said quietly. Sakura looked up. “I was told that I could carry out the execution of my clan and spare Sasuke, or they would do it themselves and spare no one.”

Sakura frowned, staring at Itachi as he stared into the fire. His eyes were black, but danced faintly orange in reflection of the flames. 

“I suppose its your choice whether you believe me or not,” he went on softly. “But I did it for my brother.”

Sakura stayed quiet, turning it over and over in her head. She recalled everything she had ever remembered Sasuke saying about his brother.

_"My ambition is to restore my clan, and to kill a certain man.”_

His first words on the subject rattled around in her head.

“Sasuke wants to kill you for it, though.”

“I know,” Itachi replied. Sakura heard the heavy resignation in his voice. “I made sure he did.”

Dinner was quiet, and surprisingly tasty, for being cobbled together with cans and wild game, and afterward, Sakura made them tea again. Itachi was only a few sips into his cup when the coughing started again. Sakura wavered for only a moment before getting up on her knees.

“May I?” she asked, holding out her palms. Itachi’s brows furrowed, coughing as he was. There seemed to be less blood this time, though.

“I promised I wouldn’t without permission,” Sakura pleaded. Finally, between coughs, Itachi nodded reluctantly. Sakura was beside him in a flash, one hand pressed to his sternum, the other to his spine, and he felt cooling chakra flow through his chest. The coughing eased, and he felt his lungs start to accept air again. After a few long, deep breaths where he took in noticeably more oxygen, Sakura slowly released him, sitting back on her heels.

Itachi gave her a quiet thanks, and she nodded, still not moving. He looked up at her, black eyes able to focus on hers at this close distance.

She took a deep breath and put her hands back on his chest. He stayed still as she began an in-depth examination of his lungs before she stood up and walked over to her pack. She crouched down, rooting through it for a scroll. This one wasn’t a sealing scroll. Itachi watched curiously as she unfurled what seemed to be a medical jutsu scroll. She examined a few sections, then looked up at him.

“Have you ever inhaled one of your own fire jutsu?” she asked. Itachi raised an eyebrow.

“Who hasn’t, in the beginning?” he asked.

“I’m pretty sure most people’s first fireballs are fairly weak compared to where you started, aren’t they?” Sakura prodded. Itachi looked thoughtful.

“If it was simply burns, another medic would have found it sooner,” he said. Sakura shook her head.

“I think it’s a combination of factors, but I also think I can heal it,” she said. “Permanently.”

Itachi averted his eyes to the fire.

“You shouldn’t help me,” he said. “To do so would make you a traitor to Konoha.”

Sakura sighed, re-rolling the scroll she had been looking at.

“Yeah, you’re right, aren’t you?” she said slowly. She tucked the scroll into her pack, then rearranged herself to lay down on her bedroll. She tucked herself in carefully, rolling again to face the wall.

She woke with a start in the middle of the night. The fire was roaring, and she saw Itachi sitting closer to it, his legs crossed and his elbows on his knees as he turned an old, dinged-looking shuriken over in his hands.

He didn’t turn to face her, but he began speaking in a low tone.

“After the Kyuubi attack, certain people in Konoha suspected Uchiha involvement, since the Sharingan can have some measure of control over the tailed beasts,” he began. Sakura’s brows furrowed, and she sat up. He didn’t turn, or acknowledge her attention, but continued to speak. “The Uchiha district was created to segregate us, and the Uchiha became isolated and resentful, especially my father.”

Sakura almost held her breath, desperate not to interrupt, as Itachi spun a long tale of incendiary deceit and death. He described Danzo’s involvement, his cousin’s suicide, and the fateful night when he followed Danzo’s orders, accompanied by a man that Itachi had thought was Madara Uchiha.

As he described torturing his younger brother, his breathing hitched, and Sakura realised it was not an oncoming coughing fit, but a choked back sob.

“Sasuke must kill me,” he finished. “It is his right, and his destiny, and his duty.”

The crackling fire seemed deafening after Itachi fell silent, and Sakura didn’t know how to reply, shocked as she was. She believed him, although she wasn’t sure why she did, or why he was even telling her.

“After... Afterwards, please tell him.”

“No,” Sakura immediately refuted, and his back stiffened visibly. “Danzo is still on the council. We have to tell Tsunade-sama, she can do something about it! You could come home, explain it to Sasuke yourself, reconcile!”

“You stupid little girl,” Itachi hissed. “I murdered a hundred people that night. There is no returning for me.”

“It’s Danzo’s fault, though!” Sakura protested, although she wasn’t quite stupid enough to move forward and put a hand on his shoulder like she wanted to.

Itachi growled, turning away from the fire, to the dark corner of the cottage, and fell silent. Sakura wanted to protest further, but Itachi’s anger was palpable, so she wisely held her tongue. After several tense minutes of silence, Sakura slowly lowered herself back onto her bedroll.

It took a very long time for her to drift back to sleep, but by the time she awoke the next morning, there was no longer any trace of the missing-nin in the cabin.

His bedroll was gone, his pack and cloak. The iron pot from the fire.

Sakura looked around, and reached out, and felt no trace of him. She sighed, and buried her face in her hands, her head spinning and her eyes burning with tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've written about a billion Naruto fanfic over the last few weeks (okay, it's actually eight), in a fit of strangely liberating self-indulgence. I hope you enjoyed this, because I keep loving/hating it in alternating turns. I wanted so badly to set up some real good ItaSaku angsmutluff, but they turned out to be way too stubborn.
> 
> Right now, this will stand alone, and may yet for a long time. I had a few poorly-fleshed-out ideas for continuing, but I can't plot for beans and I don't want to post something half-finished and abandon it in the middle. It's a one-shot for all your sakes, dears.
> 
> Be well, everyone. The world is scary right now.
> 
> ~Lily  
> March 19, 2019
> 
> Update: I made some very minor edits for typos. The sequel is about half done, so I wanted to make sure this was shiny before I post part two! Enjoy, darlings. I hope you're all staying safe!
> 
> ~Lily  
> July 7th, 2020


	2. Omake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Itachi breathes.

The taste of home didn’t sit well with him. Every glance at her unmarred hitai-ate was like being punched in the stomach. Every kind word was like a knife.

The only part of him that _didn’t_ seem to hurt right now was his lungs.

They were incredibly, mercifully clear. He gulped down huge breaths of icy mountain air and felt his muscles burning away the soreness that came from a lack of oxygen after exertion. He hadn’t felt this free, this strong, in years.

The part of him that got carried away with fantasy thought for one brilliant instant that he could take out all of the rest of Akatsuki on his own, and return home a hero.

The moment that thought crossed his mind, he slipped on a tree branch.

Embarrassed by his mistake, despite the lack of witnesses, Itachi paused in the snow, looking around as he breathed deeply. Really, it was too cold to be doing so, but he hadn’t felt his lungs fill so completely in far too long to not take advantage of it now.

Going home.

That thought hadn’t crossed his mind since the first few months after he left. He had resigned himself—dedicated himself—to his plan. It was his final mission, suicidal though it may be. Some pink-haired waif couldn’t change that with an amazingly unburdened set of lungs.

Distantly, he sensed a snow hare in a nearby meadow. He couldn’t thank her properly. Nothing he could give to an enemy would be worth what she had given him. Dinner, in this case, would have to suffice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A brief omake about Itachi's excursion from the cabin. You might take this as a brief teaser for the sequel coming sometime in August!
> 
> Love,  
> Lily  
> July 9th, 2020


End file.
